Chapter 51 – Tongwan Hospital (5)
◎ Xie Zhu ◎
In the oppressive and stifling atmosphere, the actions of the homeless man seemed particularly peculiar.
He showed no interest in conversations with others, as if he hadn’t heard anything, his eyes vacant, lying motionless on the ground.
But his mouth moved slightly, indicating that he was indeed still breathing.
“It’s okay,” Song Ke, who was blocked by Lin Youyou, replied softly, and continued to walk forward.
She squatted down in front of the homeless man, delicate fingers pulling out a bag of bread from his pocket.
Only a small half of the bread was left, and it had been left for several days, becoming dry and hard on the outside. However, the logo “medical support” was still visible, a bread that only volunteers in Tongwan could receive.
A few days ago, in the street garden outside the 119 Hospital, Song Ke had given a homeless man a piece of bread.
Was it the same person? It was hard to tell as the person looked disheveled, and his face couldn’t be clearly seen. Song Ke found it difficult to determine.
She stuffed the bread back into the homeless man’s pocket, paused for a moment, and then swiftly pulled open his collar, frowning.
There were several wounds on the man’s body, with white edges and beneath the crusted black clots, one could faintly see fresh red, torn flesh… It didn’t look new; it seemed like old injuries.
The homeless man allowed her actions without any sign of resistance. He glanced at her through his messy hair, his eyes devoid of much emotion. Bluish decay lines appeared on his cheeks, but he remained conscious.
Song Ke was momentarily stunned, a vague and inexplicable mist of familiarity lingering in her mind. This man felt like she had met him somewhere before.
The security team finished checking the others and turned to the homeless man. They noticed Song Ke crouched on the ground and hesitated, “Uh…”
They had just witnessed Song Ke, like a god of death, wreak havoc in the zombie tide, and it made them a bit apprehensive.
Song Ke stepped back, making way for them.
A young team member scanned the homeless man with a radiation meter, looking puzzled, “Level one, huh… Mild symptoms?”
The displayed value on the device was lower than that of typical mild symptoms, almost no different from a normal person.
After finishing up the final matters on the high wall, Zhuang Qingyan arrived late and found Song Ke gathering with others.
“What’s going on?” He saw people gathered and casually asked.
Song Ke returned to his side. With the crowd around, speaking wasn’t convenient. She simply placed her forearm on the back of the wheelchair, leaned close to Zhuang Qingyan’s ear, and spoke softly, “That person is very strange.”
Zhuang Qingyan slightly leaned his body, cooperating with her whispered words.
His almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the homeless man, observing carefully upon hearing her words.
The security team members were still perplexed. “How do we handle this? The wounds haven’t worsened… Hey, do you need to be taken to the hospital?”
Someone nearby chimed in, “Are we sure he was bitten by a zombie? Could it just be decaying wounds? His readings are quite normal.”
“He hasn’t been bitten!” a woman in the corner exclaimed shakily.
The remaining people in the room had managed to escape the zombie attacks through sheer luck, but they were still terribly frightened. The sudden outburst of the woman immediately caught everyone’s attention.
“I’m not lying. This man, this man is a monster. The zombies don’t bite him!”
“Get him out of here, now!!”
The expression of the security team members was one of doubt and astonishment. Could it be true? The homeless man lay nonchalantly at the door; how could zombies not bite him?
“It’s true, I saw it too,” murmured another elderly man with white hair. “The zombies don’t bite him, not a single one. They just pass by him… pass by…”
He would never forget the scene just now. The gruesome and evil zombies suddenly rushed in, their foul fangs crazily biting into people. Everyone panicked and fled in all directions, except for the homeless man lying on the ground. The zombies didn’t even spare him a glance as they passed right over him.
After repeatedly confirming the witnesses’ accounts, the security team members didn’t dare to be careless. One of them grabbed the homeless man by the collar and pulled him up from the ground.
“Hey, stop pretending to be dead, get up and talk, explain the situation properly.”
The homeless man was handled roughly, his head swaying along with the movement. He muttered something like a buzzing mosquito.
“Just kill me.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, kill me,” he laughed hoarsely, using his finger to point at his own forehead.
“Like just now, bang, blow my brains out.”
His voice was despairing, indifferent, lacking any will to survive, just wanting to end it all quickly.
Song Ke straightened her back and softly exclaimed, “Ah.”
“It’s coming back to me.”
She realized where the strange feeling in her heart came from.
—Fools Wharf, Aunt Qing.
The state of this homeless man was similar yet dissimilar to Aunt Qing from back then. Similar in the sense that both were bitten by zombies, their bodies undergoing mutation, but after a certain period, they didn’t degenerate into zombies, and they even retained their clear consciousness.
The differences were also evident. Aunt Qing had almost completely decayed; from the outside, she looked like a zombie. But this man had very few, no, almost no signs of mutation.
Could someone be bitten by a zombie and not turn into one?
If that were the case, then perhaps everyone’s assumptions had been wrong all along?
Song Ke couldn’t comprehend this and asked Zhuang Qingyan about her doubts.
Zhuang Qingyan scrutinized the homeless man from head to toe, a barely perceptible smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Remember when I said that most people bitten by zombies are assimilated into zombies due to the ‘contaminated’ radiation impact, causing a surge in their magnetic fields?”
“I remember,” Song Ke nodded and followed his line of thought, suggesting another possibility, “But, but there’s a very s-small, extremely low prob, probability, of a passive awakening…”
As she spoke, she paused.
There was an exceedingly rare chance that someone who had been bitten by a zombie might awaken as an ability user.
Could it be possible? The homeless man was an awakener?
Could there be an awakener like him who didn’t kill zombies, didn’t take on missions, and didn’t even want to live properly, only desiring a swift death?
“That’s not all; there’s another possibility,” Zhuang Qingyan said calmly.
“The scenario you’re assuming now is that he was bitten as an ordinary person, right?”
Song Ke nodded.
Zhuang Qingyan dropped a deep-water torpedo of a question, “But what if he had awakened before being bitten?”
Song Ke: “…”
She was left speechless by the revelation.
Zhuang Qingyan smiled, “Of course, this is just my speculation. If we want to confirm, it will take some time.”
While the two were speaking, they kept their voices very low, and only a few people like Xu Xing and Lin Youyou overheard the discussion. Even Xu Xing and Lin Youyou, composed as they were, showed signs of astonishment.
“Song Ke, leave him. Let me observe him for a few days.”
“Why, leave?”
Zhuang Qingyan pondered for two seconds, then moved his wheelchair forward and approached the security team members. “Gentlemen, I have a suggestion.”
The security team members looked at him with awe. “Mr. Zhuang, do you have any advice?”
“I wouldn’t presume to offer advice,” Zhuang Qingyan gestured towards the homeless man they were holding, “but there should be other empty rooms around here, right? If you’re not sure, you could isolate him for now. If the zombification worsens later, we can handle it then.”
“That makes sense,” a young security team member scratched his head. “Let’s go with that. We’ll isolate him first, and I’ll go ask the captain.”
The group found an empty cargo warehouse, tossed the homeless man inside, set up access restrictions, and just before closing the door, the security team member looked at Song Ke and others. “Uh, do you all have anything else?”
Zhuang Qingyan spoke, “We’d like to have a few words with him. You go ahead and attend to your duties.”
The security team member glanced inside, “Oh, okay. Remember to lock the door when you leave.”
Only Song Ke and her four companions remained on the scene, along with the homeless man lying on the ground.
Zhuang Qingyan’s wheelchair circled around him. The man was like a dead fish, lying motionless on the ground, completely non-violent and non-cooperative.
Zhuang Qingyan smirked, instantly changing his mind. He decided not to communicate with him. “Let’s go.”
Let him be for a few days.
Song Ke stayed put.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on the specific feeling, but if this homeless man was the same one she had encountered in the street garden a few days ago, then his change in condition was quite drastic. The homeless man from back then, though downcast, would at least compete with pigeons for food, indicating a glimmer of survival instinct. Now, he seemed utterly defeated, longing for a quick death.
Song Ke walked into the room and once again squatted in front of the homeless man. “Have you… encountered something?”
The near-lifeless homeless man finally reacted, turning his disheveled head in her direction and grumbled irritably, “I say, have you people eaten your fill?”
Song Ke’s good intentions were met with an unkind response. She pursed her lips, and the dimples on her cheeks appeared slightly indented.
The homeless man’s gaze lingered on her face for a second, then he averted his head and closed his eyes, showing no further interest.
He lay down on the ground, completely motionless.
…
Two days later, at the 119 Hospital, the three part-time workers, V587, were once again sitting in a row, basking in the sun during their lunch break.
Taking a break together in the corridor had become their routine during this period.
Today, Song Ke didn’t push her coolies, Lin Youyou and Su Cha, too much. After all, she had just assigned a B-class contract to the big star at the crematorium yesterday, and when they accepted the mission, the big star had glared at her as if she were about to stab her with a knife.
Xu Xing sat on the railing, swinging his legs back and forth. Suddenly, he pointed to a spot and exclaimed, “Sister, look over there!”
He looked pleasantly surprised, clung to the railing, and leaned out halfway. “Isn’t that Uncle An?”
Song Ke was afraid he might accidentally fall, so she tightly held onto the hem of his clothes from behind.
Down below, about ten meters away, a tall man walking alone turned around upon hearing their voices, and upon recognizing them, he waved.
Indeed, it was An Qiwen.
Song Ke tilted her head in puzzlement.
It was quite strange. What was so special about Tongwan? Why were people she knew coming here one after another?
Of course, when you meet acquaintances, it’s natural to say hello. The three of them left the corridor and walked towards An Qiwen.
Upon meeting him, Song Ke was taken aback. This tall man, who used to exude confidence and vitality, now had sunken eye sockets and looked somewhat weary.
As soon as An Qiwen saw them, he extinguished the cigarette in his mouth. “Oh, it’s you guys. What a coincidence.”
Xu Xing, accustomed to reading people’s expressions, sensed that he wasn’t doing well. His joyful expression faded considerably, and he asked cautiously, “Uncle An, why are you here alone? What about Captain Wu and the others?”
An Qiwen lowered his gaze, rubbed the cigarette butt between his fingers, ultimately unable to discard it.
“The captain is still on a mission.”
“Why aren’t you with them?”
“Qiangzi is hospitalized, and I’m here to keep watch for a couple of days.”
Qiangzi referred to Wang Qiang, the D-level wind-type awakener in the Azure Phoenix squad. Song Ke remembered him; he had traveled with them in a pickup to the Ferrara. In her memory, he was a cheerful and lively young man.
Song Ke was somewhat surprised. They had been fine when they parted ways, so how did Wang Qiang end up in the hospital? Was he injured? She wondered about the severity of his condition.
“Do, do you think we should vi-visit him?” she asked in a low voice.
They had some acquaintance with the Azure Phoenix squad. Since they had encountered them here, it seemed appropriate, both morally and socially, to pay a visit.
“No need,” An Qiwen shifted his steps, effectively blocking their path. His voice choked up, “He’s lost half his body. There’s no need to see.”
Song Ke and Xu Xing fell into silence, not knowing what to say to comfort him.
They found a bench and sat down. The chilly November wind swept over them, thinning out the sunlight. Looking at An Qiwen’s somber expression, their mood was as uncertain as the autumn winds, with depths impossible to fathom.
Song Ke had envisioned that Azure Phoenix squad’s missions would be dangerous, but she had never expected the outcome to be this horrifying. Moreover, Wu Juemin’s team was composed of forty members. How many were left now?
“What e-exactly were you doing, what, what kind of mi-mission?” she asked with little hope.
An Qiwen spread his arms, resting them on the back of the chair. After a while, with closed eyes, he sighed, “An uncompleted mission.”
He held the unlit cigarette in his mouth, looking fatigued, muttering as if he had been holding it in for a long time, “I’ve really messed up.
“A soldier’s duty is to obey orders. I understand that, but lately, I can’t help but think, am I too constrained?
“Seeing my teammates dwindling while the mission seems hopeless, no way forward, and now even no way back. Can’t find it, can’t return. Heh, can only continue to drift.”
“Phew!” An Qiwen suddenly spat out the cigarette, and with a heavy punch, he hit the chair. The entire bench shook, on the verge of falling apart.
“I’ve been damn repressed for too long, from before the apocalypse until today, a full half year, and not a hair found!”
“What… what hair…”
Song Ke shrank her shoulders and hurriedly reached out to steady the bench.
An Qiwen sighed deeply, exhaling a breath of frustration. “It’s not a top-secret mission, it’s okay to tell you.”
“We’re looking for a key or, rather, a person.”
“A person who has been missing from the entire Alliance for almost twelve years.”
Song Ke exclaimed in surprise.
Zhuang Qingyan’s fingers on the wheelchair paused, and he raised an eyebrow slightly.
Among the three, Xu Xing was the youngest and couldn’t hold back his question, “How is that possible? My dad said your intelligence network is very powerful. Isn’t it easy to find a person?”
“Yeah, just finding a person, how hard could it be?” An Qiwen chuckled self-deprecatingly. “But it’s just not there. All citizen IDs, images, files, and written records about him, whether it’s cameras, checkpoints, social media, or even in the corners of the star network, there’s nothing. It’s as if this person evaporated from the world.”
“No one knows how he managed it. Sometimes I even suspect, did he die a long time ago, so there’s no information. Only the dead can erase all traces.”
“Is there absolutely no clue?” Song Ke couldn’t help but ask.
“There is,” An Qiwen said, opening his eyes.
“The only clue, there’s only a blurry image of him at the age of 15 and a name.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Xie Zhuo.”
An Qiwen brought up the projection on the terminal. “This is the only image he left before he disappeared.”
The three looked at it with curiosity.
In the projection, the teenager had black hair and dark eyes, with rebellious brows and eyes. Due to the angle of the shot, only half of his profile was visible. He looked coldly at the camera, with a teardrop mole glistening at the corner of his eye.
